Hints of self-regard were already taking root in Abrau; he had begun to look at himself in a new way. Small, worthless tasks had begun to grate upon him. He’d begun to pine for a different kind of work. Work with some kind of stature. Work that was defined. It was his good luck that of all the youth of Zaminej, he had been the single one to be given this job. Mirza Hassan and Salar Abdullah had chosen him. Abrau took this very seriously; there had been many others they could have chosen. Of all of his peers who were now making plans to migrate for work, would any have refused this job? And with it, the prospect of steady, guaranteed work?
The plan was that as soon as the tractor was finished ploughing the partners’ lands, it would be rented out to plough elsewhere. Not only within Zaminej itself, but also in the neighboring villages. He expected that this would be the most enjoyable part of his work — experiencing new places from on top of the tractor. They said that the girls in the neighboring areas were more fun! From what he had heard, Mirza and his partners were planning to apply for a large loan from the ministry of agriculture. Once they’d registered the land, they would use it as collateral for the loan. For Abrau, it seemed as clear as day that their plans would entail further expansions. No doubt they’d eventually need one or two other tractors. By then, Abrau would have been trained as a driver; he’d sit at the controls of a tractor and wear his hat to one side. He’d be able to marry and get a house for himself. He’d go after any girl who took his fancy. By then, he’d be a man for himself.
Abbas stepped inside the house. Abrau couldn’t see him very well. His eyelids were heavy. But even in the dark, it was obvious what had just happened to Abbas. He was tired and angry, swearing under his breath. As he set out his blanket, it was as if he was trying to tear it in half. Once or twice he spit a curse out from his mouth. Then he knelt beside the water jug and pressed his mouth against it. He drank water until his belly was full. Then he threw himself down, swore under his breath, and rolled over. Abrau imagined that his brother was biting on his pillow. But then he fell asleep.
* * *
In the morning, before the dawn, Mergan rose from her place and woke her daughter. Hajer sat up and rubbed her eyes, still tired and short of sleep. She felt heavy, and she couldn’t keep her head up. She fell back and lay her head on the pillow. It felt as if her head was full of lead. Mergan returned to the room after washing up. Abrau sat up straight and looked around anxiously. He suddenly leapt up and ran to the door. The sky was already light outside. He turned back to his mother and asked, “Did you hear anything?”
“Hear what?”
“The sound of the tractor!”
“No.”
Abrau relaxed a little. He went out, splashed water on his face, and returned. He took some bread, thrust it into his pocket, and rushed out the door. Mergan dried her hands and face and went back over to Hajer.
“Get up then! Your fiancé is about to come. He can’t find you lying there like a corpse! Rise and splash some water on yourself! Get up!”
Hajer wanted to get up, but on spring mornings, sleep tends to weigh heavily on children of her age, holding them under its heavy wings. Mergan grabbed her daughter’s underarms and dragged her outside, sitting her beside the well to wash her face and hands. Only then did Hajer begin to shake off the sleep. She sat against the wall while Mergan wiped her face with the edge of her shirt. Then she left to find her old wedding dress for Hajer to wear — a crumpled and creased red cotton shirt with a blue floral design, and a silk headscarf pocked with moth holes. Putting the shirt on Hajer, it was clearly too large for her; its edges dragged on the ground. The edges of the shoulders of the shirt fell on Hajer’s arms, and her tiny hands were lost in its sleeves. The bosom of the shirt was empty, as Hajer’s had not developed as yet. At best, her breasts were each the size of a walnut.
No matter! An oversized shirt is nothing to worry over …
Mergan found a needle and thread and brought in the wide neck of the shirt. Now she had to do something for the sleeves. The solution was to pull up the material on the upper sleeves and to fold it over and sew it, which she did. The shirt nearly fit now, but she also placed a pin at the neck of the shirt to hide Hajer’s bony chest underneath. She felt it looked acceptable. But if she’d thought of it before and had done something to bring in the waist of the shirt a little, it might have been better. But it was too late now. She took the headscarf and placed it on Hajer’s head. Folded over once, it was difficult to notice the moth holes in the material. Good … and here’s a pin under the chin for the scarf. Let the extra material of the scarf cover her shoulders … That’s more appropriate. And the corners of the scarf can just fall upon her chest. The bangs of her hair had to fall out of the scarf and cover her forehead until her eyebrows. And each tuft of hair had to have a gentle wave in it.
“That’s good … May God let you grow old in peace and comfort!”
Mergan looked around and found Ali Genav smiling in the doorway. Hajer hid herself behind her mother. Mergan replied, “You and she can go together, God willing!”
Ali Genav said, “I hope so, God willing. Good … Fine … Now I’ll go and saddle my donkey.”
He stepped away to leave; the room again filled with sunlight.
Mergan grabbed her daughter’s elbow tightly.
“You’d better stop acting the fool right now! He’s going to be your husband. You’re not a helpless baby. You’re becoming a real woman. How am I going to get this into your thick skull?!”
Hajer said nothing. She only took a sharp breath. Mergan readjusted the scarf on her head and took her by the hand toward the door. She looked over her daughter in the sunlight. Hajer’s face was so small it looked like a china saucer. Her eyes darted to and fro. She was upset, unlike her usual self — no one was better equipped to sense this than her mother. But Mergan didn’t want to acknowledge this to herself, much less to discuss it openly.
“You look like the moon! A beautiful flower. If we had a full-length mirror so you could see yourself, you’d understand why I’m saying this. A crystal sculpture! May you be protected from the evil eye. I have to burn rue incense now. You’ll have a wonderful future. May you avoid the eye of envy! Everyone should want to have a girl your age that they are marrying at this time of year. I hope they all drop dead from jealousy! I have to go and wrap a piece of bread in the bundle.”
Hajer stayed where she was by the doorway while her mother went in, kicking Abbas’ leg on the way.
“Hey, the sun’s about to rise! Are you planning to wake up any time today? You can’t take the camels out after the sun’s already risen. You should be out in the fields by now!”
Abbas rolled over and growled. Mergan entered the pantry while Hajer leaned against the wall and looked outside. The yard was so empty. So empty! It seemed as if no one and nothing had ever entered it.
Mergan emerged from the pantry and tied a piece of bread into a measure of cloth, then shouted at Abbas.